


Arcana College AU

by theleakypen



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, author does not like Lucio (The Arcana), past Muriel (The Arcana)/Lucio (The Arcana), the main ship is friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleakypen/pseuds/theleakypen
Summary: The cast of the Arcana are all undergraduate students at the State University of New York's Vesuvia campus, each pursuing their own academic tracks. Muriel, Asra, Julian, and Nadia form the core of the friend group, but some others are in their orbit.This work is an incomplete work-in-progress that the author has no intention of completing. If you are interested in yoinking the concept for your own purposes, I invite this.
Relationships: Asra & Julian Devorak & Nadia Satrinava & Muriel (The Arcana), Lucio/Nadia (The Arcana)
Kudos: 2
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	Arcana College AU

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this with full intentions of making this into a thing, but then a) grad school happened and b) I dove headfirst into The Untamed fandom, so this is never getting finished. If anybody wants to use it as a jumping off point for their own fic, you have my blessing.

The grounds of the State University of New York’s Vesuvia campus, located not too far from the Erie Canal, Lake Ontario, and the Canada border, are centered on the combination Student Activities Center and administration building, colloquially known as the Palace because of the three completely unnecessary decorative towers rising above the third floor in its A, C, and E wings. Lucio Morgasson will tell anyone who will listen that he’s been up in E tower, which is a bell tower, and that he’s the one who made them ring the Game of Thrones theme during Halloween last year. Asra Alnazar scoffs at this, since everyone knows that the bells’ melodies are programmed mechanically and _none_ of the towers are actual bell towers like Cornell has. 

Right now it’s an unseasonably warm afternoon in mid-October and the students at Vesuvia are taking advantage of the weather to the fullest. Asra is lounged on the quad between Muriel Levi and Julian Devorak, his head pillowed on his messenger bag, soft burgundy scarf draped over his eyes, anthropology lecture notes discarded next to his head. Julian casts a baleful glare at him from over his organic chemistry homework. He’s using his long black coat as a picnic blanket, lying on his stomach, long legs splayed. “Midterms are literally next week,” he sputters. “How are you just gonna lie there not studying?”

“With grace and ease,” Asra replies, lifting his head just enough to cast a lazy smile in Julian’s direction. Julian’s sputters increase even as red flames up his cheeks and ears at the cheshire grin. He shakes his head and returns his attention to his homework, muttering. Muriel had watched the exchange out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t comment. He’s got his back against the short stone barrier at the edge of the grass and his service dog Inanna is lying down next to him, head on her paws. He’s busy with his own organic chemistry; it’s the main reason he tolerates Julian’s presence—their pre-vet and pre-med tracks mean they end up in a lot of the same classes and it’s better to keep the peace, including for Asra’s sake. Their corner of the quad returns to silence.

That silence is broken when Nadia Satrinava storms over and plops down on Julian’s coat with a frustrated growl. Her beautifully patterned dress settles around her in perfect symmetry despite her seemingly graceless landing. “That gods-damned, arrogant, stubborn—” she bursts out, then growls again without finishing. 

Asra pulls the scarf down from his face and raises a single white brow at his friend. “Trouble in paradise?” he drawls. Muriel’s face, never particularly open and expressive, shutters entirely. 

Julian shifts his mass of books and papers a little to give Nadia more space to sit, then sits up himself and puts a tentative arm over her shoulders. “What’s going on, Countess?” he asks.

“Fucking Lucio just said he’s going to fucking run for fucking USG president even though _he fucking knows_ I’ve been working toward this for the past three years. He says he’s already submitted his nomination paperwork, the fucker.” With every word, Nadia’s body coils tighter, muscles tensing. She’s shaking with fury, but the hurt on her face is undisguised. “He knows how much student government means to me.”

“Why are you dating him again?” Asra asks. He’s sitting up now fully, eyes narrowed in displeasure, and his hand finds Muriel’s and squeezes it. He doesn’t entirely know Muriel’s history with Lucio Morgasson, but he knows it’s bad. “He does nothing but undermine you at every turn. Nadi, you’re a _badass_. You deserve better.”

But Nadia’s shaking her head almost from the start of Asra’s words. “It’s not always like that, Asra. You know it’s not.” She draws her knees up to her chest, hugging them and the thick brocade of the skirt, and leans into Julian’s side. “He’s really sweet sometimes; often, even. You know he lives all the way out in Minnesota, but he flew out to Mumbai for my birthday over the summer. He met my family, and you know _they’re_ a wild ride.”

“So he’s good at the grand gestures; we know _that_ ,” Asra says, unimpressed. 

Muriel gets up abruptly, shoving his notebook haphazardly into his backpack and picking up Inanna’s leash. “I’ll see you later,” he rumbles, squeezes Asra’s shoulder once, then walks away. 

Asra follows him with his eyes, worry dancing in them, but he lets the taller man walk away, then turns back to Nadia. “I’m not going to argue with you, Nadi,” he says softly. “I’m just going to keep reminding you that you deserve better. Whatever you’re getting out of this thing you’ve got with Lucio, that’s your choice. But you deserve more than the roller coaster.”

Nadia shakes her head again, but she, too, doesn’t argue, just hugs her knees tighter and leans into Julian.

“You’re still running too, though, right?” Julian asks. “He hasn’t convinced you not to run against him or some bullshit like that?”

Nadia snorts and shakes her head. “No, I’m still running. I’ve already put my paperwork in, too.”

“First day it became available, if I know you at all,” Asra says, grinning. Nadia blushes and nods, grinning too. 

Julian takes his arm from Nadia’s shoulders and elbows her gently, grinning when she elbows him back. He changes the subject. “Hey, is Nazali around? I wanted to ask them about this fucking problem set Prof Corvus gave us.”

“I’m not my sister’s keeper, Devorak,” Nadia rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you use your perfectly good cell phone into which I _know_ their number is programmed?”

Asra laughs as Julian and Nadia’s banter picks up and rises, gathering his anthro notes into his messenger bag. “I’m going to find Muriel. Dinner tonight at Market Hall?”

Nadia raises a hand in farewell. “I’ll save you some pumpkin bread.”

“My hero.” Asra bends to kiss her cheek, then walks in the direction Muriel went. Nadia ignores the way Julian follows Asra with his eyes, diving into the subject of midterm preparation woes with the typical gusto of the college student.

Asra finds Muriel in his dorm room. He’s sitting on his bed, one fist clenched on his thigh, the other buried in Inanna’s fur, face a mask of misery. Asra pauses in the act of putting his lockpicks away, face falling, then finishes the action and closes the door gently behind himself. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I should have turned the conversation away from him.”

“Not your fault,” Muriel mutters, eyes still on the ground a few feet in front of him. Inanna turns her head and licks his fist. “I’m glad you’re helping Nadia.” Asra winces. He knows Muriel doesn’t actually mean the silent _like you didn’t help me_ but Asra hears it anyway.

“Do you need to call Dr. Eremita?” Asra moves further into the room and sits down on the desk chair, moving carefully to telegraph his movements. Muriel tilts his head, considering, then shakes his head. His fists are already unclenching under his service dog’s ministrations, Asra notes with relief. 

“You in for dinner later with Ilya and Nadi?” Asra asks. “You don’t have to talk to them or anything… I just like having you there.”

Muriel frowns but nods. “I’ll be there,” he says. “You… can go now; I’m all right.”

Asra casts a concerned glance over his friend, then nods. Muriel won’t outright ask him to leave unless he really needs it, but Asra can read a tacit request. He touches Muriel’s hand with his own, lingering, then turns to go.

Julian finds Portia just finishing up her shift at the on-campus hotel where the Hospitality Management students do their practica. Just two months into her freshman year, she’s already established a place for herself in the hotel’s internship program, mostly through finding which of the relevant professors was susceptible to her particular brand of ~~bullying~~ persuasion. 

“Pashen’ka!” he calls. “My heart, my sweet, my darling little sister!”

Portia’s friend giggles at the dramatic eyeroll she gives before turning around to greet her brother. “Ilya,” she says dryly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just checking if we’re still on for dinner tonight at Market Hall. Asra and Nadia will be there. And maybe that mountain of a man Asra calls a friend.”

“Muriel’s _your_ classmate, Ilyush. You should be nicer to him,” Portia admonishes.

“If he’s nicer to me, I’ll consider it. So you coming or what?”

“I’ll be a bit late—I’m going to Prof. Poplowska’s office hours—but I’ll be there.”

“I’ll save you a spot at our table.” He bends to kiss her on the cheek, then waves lazily and walks out.

Portia turns back around to see her friend-slash-coworker practically swooning. “Ugh, Lisa, really?”

“Your brother is _hot,_ Portia. Deal with it.”

“He’s a fucking drama queen; trust me, girl, you want none of it.” She finishes up the last bit of clean up, then takes off the uniform T-shirt with relief. “See ya, Lis!” As she’s walking out of the hotel, she is already pulling up WhatsApp on her phone.

“Hey Mazelinka!” she says to the woman whose face now fills her screen. “How’s Pepi doing?”

“Typical!” her guardian says. “You call me and what do you ask about first? Your cat!” But there’s a fond look in her eyes even as she grumbles. “Pepi is doing just fine, girl.” Then the phone’s camera has switched to the view of the small house Mazelinka lives in and, after a few moments of erratic movement, focused on the little Siamese. 

Portia lets out a squeal of delight on seeing her cat. “Hi, Pepi! Are you being a good girl for Mazelinka?”

The cat lets out a _mbrrt_ and wanders out of frame. Mazelinka shrugs and turns the selfie camera back on. “She’s all right, Pasha. She’s eating well and she’s no trouble. Now, how are you?”

“I really like it here, Mazelinka,” Portia says, effusive. “Most everyone’s really nice and I really like my program already. I talked to this one Professor, Morgenstern, about my idea for the event planning business and she helped me sign up for the internship program at the hotel here. And I’m learning so much already! Especially about the way hospitality stuff works in America.”

“I’m glad, dear,” Mazelinka says and her smile is soft and fond, a rare expression on the tough old lady. “And are you taking care of that brother of yours?”

Portia snorts. “He thinks he’s taking care of me! He came by today to make sure I’m coming to dinner with him and his other junior friends. Like I don’t have friends of my own! I’m going of course,” she says, to forestall any admonitions. “But I wish he understood that I don’t need to. And how are you, Auntie?”

“Still alive, thank the gods, but Lilya is sick again. I don’t know how much longer she has, my dear.”

“You know Ilya and I will come back if you need us, right?”

“Of course we do! But we’re not interrupting your studies for anything short of death. Now, do you want to talk to Lilinka?”

“Yes, please.” 

She talks to her other adoptive parent, face creasing in concern at the fatigue in Lilinka’s voice. When they hang up, she sighs deeply. 

Lucio Morgasson and Pontos Vulgora both do ROTC in addition to their other extracurriculars. Lucio’s mom is military and insisted and Lucio thinks he looks dashing in a uniform, so he doesn’t protest. Pontos genuinely wants to join the Army when he’s done with college; he wants to go to war, “kill some bad guys.” Somehow, despite their equally bombastic temperaments, they’ve become friends. Right now, Lucio has pressed Vulgora into helping him with fliers for his USG president candidacy. “C’mon,” he says. “You hardly use your print quota. I’ll do all the design and then you print it and post up the fliers all over campus. Easy.” 

“Yeah, all right,” Pontos agrees. “Just email me the PDF or whatever.”

Nadia takes a long walk around campus after she and Julian part ways, still steamed about Lucio. They had met in freshman seminar and had really hit it off—she’d liked the way he told stories about his childhood, growing up as an army brat, travelling from place to place, getting into scraps and he had listened to her own stories about her large rambunctious family, her Bollywood royalty parents. When he asked her out on their first date, about three weeks into their acquaintance, it had been to go sailing on Lake Ontario. They’d taken a whole weekend off-campus. She’d been swept off her feet and no denying; Asra wasn’t wrong about the grand gestures. 

Three years later though, things are souring. Lucio had never shown interest in Undergraduate Student Government before, though Nadia had been involved in it for all three years she’d been at Vesuvia. She was treasurer now. Then, Nadia brought up that she’d be going for USG president and suddenly a switch flipped. Lucio wanted to be president too. Now she’s reevaluating, thinking of other occasions when she’d started to get too much attention for something independently of him and he’d taken over. She doesn’t want to think about that. She loves Lucio, loves being with him, loves the elegant couple they made. When he isn’t making her angry, when he isn’t undermining her in front of other people. 

Before she knows it, she’s completed almost a complete circuit of the campus; she’d hardly noticed her surroundings lost as she was in thought. She has twenty minutes to make it to her Public Policy class, just enough time to drop by her dorm and pick up her printouts for the class. She finds her roommate in their room, snacking her way through writing a paper. 

“Hey, Volta,” Nadia says, picking her way gingerly over discarded Chips Ahoy boxes and beef jerky wrappers to get to her side of the room. She throws her Public Policy notebook and the readings folder into her messenger bag and heads back out.

“Oh hey, Nadia,” Volta Proctor says just as she’s halfway out the door. “Have fun in class.”

Nadia laughs a little at her roommate’s delayed reaction. “Thanks.” 

Dinner at Market Hall is always a slightly chaotic affair. It’s the only “all you can eat” meal swipe style dining hall on campus so it’s always crowded for the only meal students consistently have time for. Julian arrives first and stakes the group’s claim to one of the big round tables near the windows. He even remembers to save a seat right up against the wall for Muriel. Then he waits patiently for the others to arrive before grabbing his own food. Nadia arrives some time later with her food tray and he springs up to join the food line before she’s even touched her seat. He’s _starving_. Muriel (with Inanna) and Portia arrive at the same time and tacitly join the line together. They know each other more by sight than anything else so they don’t speak, though Portia keeps looking at the tall sophomore out of the corner of her eye. 

When they find their table, Julian makes a show of pulling his coat off Muriel’s chair with a flourish and dramatically gesturing Muriel into a chair. Muriel scowls, obviously annoyed by the theatrics, but he mutters a thank you anyway. He feels safer with his back to the wall. Portia sits between Muriel and Nadia and dives right into her food. She’s halfway through a bowl of chowder before Asra finally shows up. “Sorry I’m late, friends,” he says. “Dr. Messina kept us late going over the paper requirements.”

“Saved you that bread - as promised,” Nadia says, grinning and handing him a slice of pumpkin bread. 

Asra tears into it ravenously. “You’re an angel, Nadi.”

“It’s noblesse oblige,” Julian throws out, grinning broadly. “Taking care of the common folk, as royalty should.”

“Shut the fuck up, Devorak,” Nadia says, her smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

“Wow,” Portia says. “How do you do that? You make ‘shut the fuck up’ sound like a pleasantry.” 

“Told you,” says her brother. “It’s why I call her Countess. She’s got that noble poise.”

Asra laughs and throws his messenger bag on the table. “Thanks for the pumpkin bread, Nadi. I’m gonna go grab some actual dinner now.”

“Get your bag off the table, you heathen!” Julian cries. “That was on the ground not five hours ago. We eat off this!”

Asra rolls his eyes but obliges before heading off to the food line. 

**Author's Note:**

> Behind-the-scenes things that are true in this fic but maybe not obvious:  
>  \- Muriel is Jewish! His name means myrrh in Hebrew and I've given him the surname Levi.  
>  \- Muriel has a history of having been in an abusive relationship with Lucio in the past; he has not disclosed this to his friends.  
>  \- Inanna is Muriel's service dog for PTSD!  
>  \- Portia & Julian are both international students from Poland.  
>  \- Dr. Eremita is indeed The Hermit.  
>  \- Prof. Corvus is The Hanged Man.  
>  \- Nazali is nonbinary and goes by they/them pronouns, but they and Nadia still call each other "sister." This doesn't make them any less nonbinary!
> 
> * * *
> 
> This fic has been converted for free using [AOYeet!](https://aoyeet.space)


End file.
